As I sit on the couch, the morning sun sends warm, golden light through the window. I sip my coffee and close my eyes. My face instinctively turns toward the sun. I am, after all, a sunflower. At least that’s what my Papa calls me.
I am His daughter. The one at whom He smiles. The one who often climbs into His lap and asks for a story. That’s what I do this morning. The soft couch is His lap; the golden sun, His smile. I ask Him for a story.
Papa tells me the story of my sister, Esther, the lovely one. He tells me of her beauty, how it won her the favor of the king. He tells me about her love for her uncle and her people. Such love that gave the young queen courage to petition the king. Because of her courage, and because the king favored her, the entire Jewish race was saved.
Papa knows I love this story. I love imagining the palace, the banquets, the robes, the celebration feasts. I admire Esther’s obedience and integrity. Papa leans in and whispers, “The king favored Esther because she was beautiful; you are beautiful because your Papa loves you.”
The sun shines brighter as it rises higher in the morning sky. I smile back and thank Papa for the story. I uncurl myself from the couch and prepare for the day, still smiling because I am His daughter. Because I am His beautiful sunflower.
